Random One Chaptered Story of Death
by Neemphadourah Tawncks
Summary: This is a story about some plot bunnies. And Harry Potter. And ... That's all I have, folks. Sorry. One-Shot. Yay!


I haven't written any Harry Potter fanfiction for Fanfiction.net since ... Uhh ... Awhile. I can't get FanFiction to get the story to work, so I have no official date. Now, I need to write. To get me inspired, I am going to write this one chaptered story. About Harry Potter. With random inside jokes tossed in. And normal humor tossed in. And jokes not even I get tossed in. And a rabid squirrel with huge nuts shall be tossed in, aswell. Why, you ask? BECAUSE I FCKING SAID SO!  
  
...Right...  
  
So, let's continue.  
  
-Melony, AKA, Neemphadourah Tawncks  
  
Random One Chaptered Story of Death  
  
A Harry Potter Fanfiction  
  
By Neemphadourah Tawncks, who is also known as Hurmynee. When you review, tell me whether or not I should go back to Hurmynee.  
  
Disclaimer: Honestly, people, do I look like an effing queen? No. I own jack squat. Now stop trying to sue me!  
  
To be more official: I do not own Harry Potter, Nymphadora Tonks, the Squirrel with the huge nuts in those posters you find at Tower, Charles M. Shultz's family owns Peanuts, FandomWank is definately not mine (not genius enough), I have no paper clips or 50 pound magnets, I don't own Batman, I own no Wheel of Torture, I don't own Elmer Fudd, I have no pink rabbit muscle man midget hybrids, I don't own a pack of fangirls, and ... I wish I had a pack of rabid fangirls to sick on people.  
  
It was a calm night at Hogwarts. Then, it all happened. Not interesting enough. Then, it all happened again! Better. The Enemy came.  
  
By Enemy, you think I mean Voldemort, don't you? Or Osama, or Saddam, or my Dad's mum? ... Ignore the last one.  
  
But oh, no! I mean something way worse. The Fanfic Brigade. First, the Plot Bunnies arrive, going throughout the school, and then going back to get The Writers. Then, the writers work with the Plot Bunnies to create Mary Sues. Well, technically, they aren't Mary Sues, because no one really loves a Mary Sue, it's just a hypnotising session done by the Plot Bunnies when they go into the school. Then, the Reviewers come. They all bounce up and down and tell the Writers how "OMG AWEYSUMMM" they are. Then, the Satricals/Realists come in. Usually, they're good, but, unknowingly, they bring in much more trouble.  
  
The Wankers. Wankers can sense any sort of particularly humorous arguments that happen over the internet, and just run on over like paper clips to a 50 pound magnet. They then proceed to poke fun and at wood to the fire. Then, finally, comes the worse and final part.  
  
The mockers and parodiers. They come in and completely ruin everything. They go after the writers, the plots, the fanon characters of utter perfection, the reviewers, the Wankers, AND the Canon characters. All in one major violent blow. But tonight, young Harry Potter was sick of it. He had made sure that, after homework, Ron and Hermione had not gone to snog - I mean, "sleep". For, Harry had decided to take action.  
  
"Ron, Hermione, tonight ... We Plot Bunny hunt!"  
  
"What nonsense is this, Harry? I haven't had a chance to grope my lady friend here, and I - OW."  
  
"The plot bunnies! Y'know, the ones that cause all the trouble here!"  
  
"Harry, you're not being logical. Have you been talking to that Luna girl again? And don't touch me, Ron."  
  
"This isn't from Luna! It's real! You know the order; Plot Bunnies, Writers, Sues, Reviewers, Realists, Wankers, Mockeries! Plot Bunnies start all the trouble, and I say we kill them!"  
  
"Harry, I wouldn't say this if I wasn't your friend, but you need some sleep. And maybe some psychiatric help, too."  
  
"If you two go to bed, I will tell Snape that Hermione is a naughty, naughty girl, and he'll bring out that kinky wheel of torture again."  
  
"I'M GOING!"  
  
"But I liked you on that wheel!"  
  
"Harry, that was Ron's line."  
  
"Oh, Sorry."  
  
"OW, Hey, he said it, not me!"  
  
And finally, we've reached the point with no dialouge. And so Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat outside of the Gryffindor Tower preparing for Plot Bunny hunting.  
  
"Do we have to dress like Elmer Fudd, Harry?"  
  
"Hermione, if you don't go along with this, I'll have to tell Snape that -"  
  
"She doesn't want to go along!"  
  
"Shut up, Ron!"  
  
A loud smack was heard. They then went out and started Plot Bunny hunting. They came upon some not-so-pretty sites. Like Draco and Pansy. In the hall. Doing overly-friendly things. Involving personal toys.  
  
"Hermione, don't you have one of those?"  
  
"Shut up, Harry. Wait a minute ... what's THAT!?"  
  
"Hermione, that's called a 'vibr'-"  
  
"No shit, Ron. I meant that!"  
  
She pointed to something by the steps. All that could be seen was it's red glowing eyes. They looked quite venomous.  
  
"Oh no! It's the worse plot bunny of all!"  
  
"The porn plot bunny?"  
  
"No, Ron. The Harry / Hermione shippers."  
  
"OH GOD, HARRY, THAT'S BARBARIC!"  
  
"I know, Hermione. I know."  
  
Suddenly, the Plot Bunny ATTACKED!  
  
"MEEPHAHA! I SHALL MEEP YOU AND HAVE YOU MEEPED BY A MARY SUE!"  
  
"...Harry, is the Plot Bunny verbally molesting me?"  
  
"I think he meant to say steal you and have you replaced by a Mary-Sue."  
  
"...But he's tiny, how can he pick me up? Continuing on, he's rather adoreable."  
  
The plot bunny turned into a three foot and pink version of the Hulk.  
  
"That might be able to do it," said Ron.  
  
Hermione poked the Plot Bunny with a nearby twig. It's response was, well, very rabbit.  
  
"YOU FILTHY LITTLE COCKROACH! GET OFF MY LEG, YOU HORNY BASTARD!"  
  
"HEY, GET OFF HER, YOU BASTARD, THAT'S MY JOB!"  
  
"HERMIONE, IF YOU'D STOP MOVING, I COULD SHOOT HIM AND OUR PROBLEMS WOULD BE DONE FOR!"  
  
"...Harry, a pink rabbit muscle man midget hybrid is humping my leg as if the world is about to end. You expect me to be calm and still?"  
  
"Well, yes, Hermione."  
  
"THEN YOU CAN GO SCREW YOURSELF, MISTER LET'S HUNT HARMLESS OLD PLOT BUNNIES INSTEAD OF SLEEPING AFTER AN EIGHTEEN HOUR DAY!"  
  
The plot bunny heard something about hunting plot bunnies, and proceeded to run off, it's bunny tendancies long forgotten about.  
  
"HERMIONE! NOW HE'S GOING TO GO BACK TO THE WRITER AND OUR LIVES SHALL BE RUINED! IF I HAVE TO SNOG YOU, I'M GOING TO HAVE TO VOMIT!"  
  
"AND IF YOU SNOG HER, I'M GOING TO HAVE TO KILL YOU!"  
  
"AND IF YOU DON'T STOP BEING THE STEREOTYPICAL OVERPROTECTIVE BOYFRIEND I'M GOING TO HAVE TO GET RESTRAINING ORDERS ON THE BOTH OF YOU! Evil bastards. Besides, I do plan to hunt that bunny down. However, you two are not coming with me, for I plan to kill the molesting bastard with my own two hands."  
  
And she proceeded to stomp off after the rabbit, leaving Ron and Harry to stare.  
  
"Well, now what do we do, El-Cap-Ee-Tan-o?"  
  
"Call me that again, Ron, and you'll be in a world of hurt."  
  
"...Okay."  
  
"And I say we split up. After we hunt Hermione down."  
  
"I thought we were hunting Plot Bunnies down?"  
  
"...Just shush and let fangirls swoon over you, Ron."  
  
So he shushed, and for a brief moment, a swarm of fangirls came in, swooned over Ron in a mass, and then ran off. And then they went to try to get to Hermione before the Plot Bunny molested her some more. And considering how horny that damn rabbit was, they will have to walk pretty damn fast.  
  
...Damnit.  
  
They saw her, after about fifteen minutes of walking. She seemed to have found the plot bunny, and was proceeding to fight it to the ground as it tried to again molest her leg. She kicked it and stomped on it and tugged on it's ears.  
  
The ear tugging was a bad idea.  
  
Suddenly, the Plot Bunny morphed. It wasn't pretty. At all. At the end of the morph, it was MUCH uglier.  
  
It was Filch. FILCH WORKS FOR THE GOD DAMNED HARRY/HERMIONE WRITERS AND THAT'S WHY WE HATE HIM! AND HE'S A HARRY/HERMIONE SMUTTER TO BOOT! THE PERVERT!  
  
He doesn't work for Hogwarts anymore. He was found smoking a "student's" large load of "Happy Grass". So, he was fired. Hermione knew that you couldn't hurt a member of Hogwarts' Staff, but you could hurt a Hogwarts Tresspasser. She had a michevious grin. Then proceeded to knee him in the groin.  
  
Harry and Ron saw it. Opportunity. They ran like the wind. THE WIND. Then they proceeded to kick him and give all his torture right back to him!  
  
Then, they went back, for the plot bunny was defeated. Filch was passed out, and would soon be found by the new Hogwarts Janitor. And then he would be put away.  
  
Which meant no more stories.  
  
- - Back at Voldemort's Lair - -  
  
"TO THE VOLDIEMOBILE, VOLDEMORT?"  
  
"Shut the hell up, Wormtail. I have a serious problem right now, the Plot Bunny man was taken down. My evil can no longer be spread."  
  
"...Voldemort, si-i-r, sh-shouldn't we b-be more focused on-on, say, Harry Potter?"  
  
"We are focused on Harry Potter! We make ridiculous things happen to him, and he goes crazy from the absurd sights! And we can take his friends down while we're at it. Three children, in Mungos, for all of their 150 years on Earth, it shall be beautiful."  
  
"...Sir, why don't we just shoot him?"  
  
"Shut up and find me a new Plot Bunny!"  
  
"Sir, I could do it."  
  
And at the door of the lair, stood a fifteen year old girl. Very gothy- looking. With some punk. And dressed like a faerie.  
  
"And who are you?"  
  
"Rebecca Roberts, sir."  
  
"Ha! A woman. What would classify you?"  
  
"Sir, I am ... A role player," she spoke the last bit in a hushed voice. Voldemort gave a standard evil laugh.  
  
"SAY NO MORE! Your type is almost more evil than I am. Welcome to the team."  
  
Rebecca proceeded to fangirl squee for the next two minutes.  
  
THE END. Or is it?  
  
(A/N: The idea of this story came from an Author's Note, much like this. The girl said she had planned to just write one story, and stick with the one until she finished it, but that the Plot Bunny for this one story just kept humping at her leg until she started to write it. Or something like that. So, writer who's name I cannot remember, thank you. Thank you oh-so- very much.) 


End file.
